


Attentional Bias

by LeotheLionathefootofOrion



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fic, Gabriel in the Bunker, Hurt Gabriel, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, M/M, Nightmares, Probably set after 13x20?, Spoilers for Season 13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-03 01:52:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14558268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeotheLionathefootofOrion/pseuds/LeotheLionathefootofOrion
Summary: Gabriel is doing a pretty good job of looking like he’s ok.He’s gonna keep telling himself that, anyway.





	Attentional Bias

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I had an image of Gabriel eating cereal in the bunker and this happened.

Gabriel’s eyelid twitches and he rubs away the tick. He can’t do much else, he thinks, as he lays his hand against his cheek and stares across the room. There’s an open book laid out in front of him and he’s supposed to be reading it. But his head is a mess and father, he needs to sleep.

Sleep hasn’t been particularly forthcoming over the last few days (is it days? It feels like centuries). It’s like Gabriel’s body and mind and grace rebel at the idea of even closing his eyes. He knows exactly why. Every time he sleeps for even a few moments he finds himself attacked from all sides by everything that ever has and ever possibly could, happen. Gabriel suspects it’s something to do with everything that’s happened over the last decade (hah! A decade. A stupid, tiny amount of time). He doesn’t know. He isn’t really one for introspection.

He leans back in the chair and rubs his hands over his face. His eyes keep blurring out and he can feel his heart beating (usually he can block that out but he’s too weak, now) thanks to far too much caffeine. He wants to thump his head down against the wood of the table, maybe knock himself out so he can get even a few minutes of blissful, sweet, sleep. Silence for a few little moments.

Instead he struggles to his feet and drags himself, corpse-like, to the kitchen. He doesn’t know where the Winchesters are - actually, no, he’s pretty sure Dean went grocery shopping (he’d promised Gabriel homemade burgers for dinner if he helped out with a bit of translation). Cas is who knows where. Sam’s probably brushing his hair, heck if Gabe knows.

He drags his eyes across the cupboards, searching for something that he can eat just to keep himself functioning for the next few hours. He’s running on fumes and the vague knowledge that it he goes to sleep standing up, it won’t end well. He grabs a box of cereal (he thinks it belongs to Sam), and pours himself a bowl. Tops it off with milk. Grabs a spoon. He’s never felt more like a machine.

He leans against the kitchen worktop and mindlessly shoves cereal into his mouth. The wound on his side still aches if he stands up for too long, but Gabriel is so tired to pain is actually a relief. It keeps him upright and vaguely aware of his body.

“Is that my cereal?” Says a voice from he fog, and Gabriel is awake enough to startle and almost drop his bowl. He gapes at Sam like a fish out of water. He’s not sure if he should answer the question. Is it a joke? Is Sam seriously upset about the cereal? At this point Gabriel doesn’t even know. He settles for a cautious nod and a mumbled “Sorry?”

Sam chuckles softly. “It’s all good man. You look like you need it.” His voice settles warmly against Gabriel’s skin and he wants to lean closer. He doesn’t though, because if he leans even a little bit he’ll fall flat on his face.

“You’re not looking so good.” Sam comments. It doesn’t feel like a criticism. Nevertheless, Gabriel fills his mouth with another spoonful of cereal to avoid saying anything in reply. Sam persists despite this. “You’re not sleeping, are you?”

Gabriel mutters something about not needing sleep, thanks very much, and dumps his empty bowl in the sink. There are black blobs dancing in front of his eyes now. A new and interesting development. He stops moving to watch them for a moment and finds himself, very abruptly, falling.

He doesn’t hit the ground, but something hits him, grabbing him around the waist while he flounders and staggers. His instinct is to break out of the hold on him, but Sam has him wrapped tightly in his arms. And Gabriel reminds himself that it really is Sam, this time. 

He’s been so humiliated already by his time with Asmodeus that he hardly feels the need to protest when Sam carries him like a child and lays him on a bed. He doesn’t protest either, when Sam makes him close his eyes, and tells him to fall asleep.

 

Gabriel thanks his father that he doesn’t remember his dreams.

 

Sam is there when he wakes up, sweating slightly and curled on his side while his body is wracked with shudders. There’s a cool hand on his cheek, brushing over his closed eyelid and tenderly stroking his tousled hair.

“Breathe.” Sam instructs, like it’s something simple. Despite his reservations, Gabriel does as Sam says. He breathes deeply. He breathes in the rough warmth of Sam’s hand and his own hot tears. Sam promises lowly that everything’s ok.

Gabriel listens mutely while Sam talks slowly and clearly about insomnia and PTSD and nightmares. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say in reply, but luckily Sam doesn’t seem to expect anything from him. He tucks the blankets around Gabriel’s shoulders and moves to the chair by the bed. Gabriel is just thankful that he hasn’t gone away.

“We’re gonna be ok.” Sam murmurs. This time, Gabriel offers him a weary smile. Lets his eyes slip closed. And listens to Sam’s calm breathing rather than the heat and beat of his own heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Please!! Leave!!! A comment!!!!


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